


Renovation

by Mellorine



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:45:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellorine/pseuds/Mellorine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Swindle gets Blurr a courting gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renovation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoyaKite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoyaKite/gifts).



> This fic contains motor-mouthed Swindle and at-a-loss-for-words Blurr. Consider yourself warned.

Some people  ~~ _Bumblebee, Arcee, Prowl_~~  might say it was testament to how completely uninteresting he’d become since the end of the war, but, as the days went by, Blurr found himself looking forward more and more to another evening tending bar.

He could always count on his (yes,  _his_. His bar, his engex, therefore: his) collection of Autobots, Decepticons, Autoboticons, Deceptibots, ex-Decepticons, not-quite-ex-Decepticons, not-Autobots- _Wreckers_ -thank-you-very-much, frag-off-Wreckers-we’re- _Dynobots_ , and thoroughly confused please-don’t-call-us-NAILs to put a glow in his spark.

Maybe Swindle would already be there when he got to the bar. The salesmech had been coming by more and more often, and spending more time (and shanix) with every visit. If you’d asked Blurr in the days immediately following the end of the war who he’d be most looking forward to see, there’s not way he would have said Swindle. But now? Maybe it was the ridiculous messes they both kept pulling each other out of, or maybe it was just the fact that even on a busy night he could always count on looking up to catch sight of purple optics across the bar, but Blurr…well, Blurr  _liked_ the mech. 

Perhaps a little more than would be considered professional.

Okay,  _fine_ , perhaps a lot more.

But as long as Swindle seemed perfectly content to occupy his current place in Blurr’s life, the racer wouldn’t complain. No need to ruin a good thing. And it was such a good thing. 

Blurr merged into the far lane to avoid the gang of Constructicons coming down the street at him, and  _wow_ , how neat was that? That there was enough traffic to warrant him actually merging? That he could spot the Constructicons and not have to worry about how long he could hold them off until backup arrived? 

Cybertron was alive again. People weren’t killing each other all over the place (not this week, at least). He had his bar. Life was good.

Or…maybe put a hold on that last part.

He pulled up in front of Maccadam’s Old Oil House, transformed, and sat down on the ground.

His bar, his beautiful, popular, wonderful bar, beacon of hope for a shining new Cybertron, was covered in scaffolding.

Vandalism? Was Starscream mad at him for some reason?  _Was his bar being shut down, oh Primus, please don’t let his bar be shut down._  Movement caught his optic, and he scrambled up and raced over to where Swindle was coming out of the building. “Swindle!” He shouted, and the businessmech snapped his helm up from where he’d been staring at a datapad. “Are you all right? What happened,  _are you okay_?”

“Blurr! You’re, uh, you’re here awfully early.” Swindle’s look of dismay quickly morphed into his best businesslike, winning smile. “Well, you’re here, I’m here, let me walk you through what we’re doing.” Swindle grabbed Blurr by the elbow, and the racer let himself be steered into the building. “See, I know you were kind of going for a retro chic look, but honestly most mechs wouldn’t know a good retro look if it smacked ‘em in the optic, so to the untrained eye it really just looked like it hadn’t been remodeled since Maccadam actually ran the place.”

“Retro?”  _Retro?_  Blurr would be insulted if he wasn’t already busy being absolutely terrified as to where this conversation was going.

“ _Exactly_. So me and the Constructicons, we fixed you up with some real nice, state-of-the-art stuff. Obviously you’ll still have the neon sign out front. You don’t want to go messing with the signage; you mess with that, and you lose all brand recognition. So you don’t gotta worry about that. We are going to be fixing up the outside some though - mostly just replacing the siding, especially those rusty parts, Scavenger says he’s got a line on where they can score some nice chromium plating if you’re into that shiny look. We’re getting you new engex distilleries, and we’re importing some organic materials for the booths and chairs. Really nice stuff. And as for the sound system, I still need to talk to Jazz and Sky-Byte about what they’ll be needing.

“So.” Swindle finished gesticulating and, as he turned to face Blurr, the robust wall of his EM field seemed to falter a bit. “What do you think?”

Blurr stared at Swindle. Where had this come from? What had he ever done to deserve this? “I don’t -. I can’t -.  _I can’t pay for this_ , Swindle, how am I supposed to pay for this?” He was ruined. He’d have to close Maccadam’s. He’d have to…what? Where would he work? For Starscream? For  _Prowl_? Was there an underground racing circuit he could get into?

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Swindle scoffed. “Have I made you sign a contract?” Blurr shook his helm. “Exactly. You’re covered. Although that reminds me, you should really think about upping your prices. You could charge double what you do now, easy. Raise prices a quarter-shanix at a time? You’d be rolling in it.”

“I want to keep things affordable,” Blurr said numbly. “I -. Swindle -. Swindle,  _what the frag?_ ”

Swindle’s optics flickered. “What?”

“I mean… _why_?” Blurr asked, then winced as he felt Swindle’s EM field stutter against his. 

“Do you -.” Swindle wrung his servos. “Did you want something different? I mean, we’ve barely started, I can call the Constructicons back and we can work out something better, here, I’ll comm them right now.”

“What,  _no_ , don’t -,” Blurr reached out and stopped Swindle before the salesmech could retreat outside, trying to ignore how the upset shivering of Swindle’s field sent spikes of distress through his own spark. “I mean, you spent your own shanix on this?”

“Well, shanix and called in a few favors, but…yeah?” Swindle smiled crookedly.

“Okay. That’s…okay, cool, okay,” Blurr nodded slowly. That still didn’t answer his question… “ _Why?”_

“That’s -.” Swindle rubbed his face. “It’s just the done thing?”

“The  _done thing_ , Swindle, the only time anyone does something like this is when -.” Blurr’s optics widened and his spark fluttered as sudden realization washed over him. “Oh, _frag me._ ” 

Swindle snorted, and Blurr would have decked him right then and there if the other mech hadn’t at least had the decency to look horrified by his own reaction.

“Oh, Primus.” Blurr covered his face. “Please don’t let anyone know I’m this dense.”

“I dunno, I can think of a couple people who’d pay big for info like that,” Swindle teased, and _there_  was the cocksure mech Blurr had come to…adore? 

Yeah, that sounded about right. 

“Well,” Blurr drawled, “I guess since you’ve already gone to all the trouble, I’d have to be a real aft to say no.”

“Right?” Swindle grinned, but his EM field twinged uncertainly against Blurr’s.

“Yup,” Blurr said, and reached out his field to brush happily against Swindle’s. “So, uh, I guess this is where I say I accept?”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

The two mechs started at each other for a moment. Then, Blurr stage-whispered, “What next?”

“I didn’t plan that far,” Swindle whispered back, smiling. 

"Well…” Blurr glanced back at his bar. “You wanna get a drink?”

“Pit, yeah -. Oh  _slag_ , all your engex canisters had to be moved out for the renovation.” Swindle looked devastated by this turn of events, and Blurr couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll go back to my place.” His field brushed teasingly against Swindle’s. “That’s were I keep all the good stuff.”


End file.
